


For Spring Will Come

by littlebrownshoe (Wolfy_Tales)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bofur Introspective, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Roundabout happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 22:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2889845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfy_Tales/pseuds/littlebrownshoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bofur left the mountain to see Bilbo for tea one day, and never went back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Spring Will Come

**Author's Note:**

> I once read a headcanon post about Bofur's wife dying in childbirth, making him see all children as his own in some type of fashion. I completely agreed, and from that starting point this little story formed.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit.

 

_A Bofur centric one-shot about finding life after death._

.

Bofur decided to become a toy maker the day his wife told him she was pregnant.

It was an almost unheard of blessing, as they had been married for only a few years. Being blessed with a child so soon after their union was something very rare indeed. Bofur and his wife were the only one who had outraced his brother Bombur and his equally-lovely lass.

The pregnancy was not very easy, but that was expected. Bofur helped seep her special teas, and sang her to sleep every night. He stayed awake practicing his widdling, incase she woke up and needed something. Be it a snack, a foot rub or a kiss, Bofur would willingly offer it to his wife.

.

She died in childbirth, three months after their four year anniversary. Bofur was sitting between his cousin and brother, smiling down at the dwarven figurine he had made for his child, when Oin told him the news.

Bofur's smile did not diminish for a moment, and it took Bombur putting a hand on his shoulder, and Bifur's high keened cry, to realize that there was no going back.

He put away the toy in his pocket, and stood to go see the lass he had loved without abandon, and the child he would never get to hold.

.

Bofur still made toys between his mining shifts, and he still looked at the small amount of dwarven children in the mountain not as something denied, but as a gift for the entire community. Dwarves harbored their children like their greatest gems, and for good reason. Yet Bofur had learned from Bifur just how to make amazing toys, so that they had to leave their parents to crowd about him in glee.

They cheered the day he began wearing his hat, and said in their high voices that finally he had something matching his wonky braids and mustache.

He put away the figurine in a small wooden box, and locked it, and it sat in the empty room made for the baby. Bofur was too scared to take away everything, and always thought to leave it for another day.

But Bofur never did get another day, as suddenly a dragon attacked and he had to rush to escape.

.

There was no mining work offered to dwarves in the lands of men, so Bofur found himself fully dedicated to crafts and toys. It was relaxing, and despite the size of the human children being bigger than him at most times, they were just as happy and kind as dwaflings.

They especially liked the warriors Bofur made, and the horses they could mount the toys on. Humans did not care much for elven figures, and dwarven ones even less. Some days Bofur thought back to his old home in the mountain, and wondered if that figurine still sat in that box.

Or if the painted wood had burned with his kin, and Bofur would only find ashes if he ever did return.

.

Bofur though that the house in the hill was odd, but comfy and cozy in a way dwarven dwellings were not. There were curves and circles everywhere instead of harsh geometic shapes. There was fragility and pastels, while dwarves were about lasting traditions and cool color schemes.

The food was very good, and Bofur enjoyed going through the hobbit's odd collection of things. Bilbo had shiny objects, and odd squares of silk, and even patches of cloth that were nothing but fancy holes. The hobbit had no toys around, and Bofur thought it mighty odd.

.

Bilbo reminded Bofur of his wife, in his upturned nose and subtle personality that could erupt at times of stress. Like before, Bofur found himself the one often starting conversations, and somehow finding smiles and laughs out of the little hobbit. Yet the more he talked and laughed with Bilbo, the less Bofur saw his wife in him, and saw the hobbit to be something all on his own.

Bofur did not fully understand why he was so concerned about such a gentle soul in this world. Before his wife had a mountain to guard her, but Bilbo was now in the open world with home far behind. He did not know the ways here, and Bofur was convinced he would get lost.

So the dwarf kept an eye on Bilbo, and made sure to always be the first to notice his missing presence.

.

They were at Beorns, and Bofur watched as Bilbo laughed loudly when Thorin allowed the hobbit to tuck a flower in one of his dark braids. Their king was healed, and Bofur knew soon they would be leaving. Still, it was nice to take a moment and enjoy a good smoke and show.

"Uncle will notice how you watch," Fili said as he came and sat beside him.

"Not that he hasn't already," Kili added as he sat on Bofur's other free side.

Bofur chuckled, and leaned back on his palms.

.

Bofur cried fat tears when he learned of Fili and Kili's deaths. They had both been born outside the mountain, and Bofur had been the first to give them toys with Bifur. Bofur adored Princess Dis fiercely for her ability as a warrior and mother, and had been so happy for the gifts Mahal had given her and Vili.

He remembered the way they both had gripped Bofur's rough fingers tight when they were babes. Then they had grabbed at his hands to sneak them places. On the journey they pulled at his mustache in jest. Now they would not grasp on to anything, and it was those left alive who would yank and hold close any memories of them.

Bofur began crying anew when he learned of Thorin's death, but his thoughts were not on him, but a hobbit.

.

Bofur found Bilbo after the battle crying by himself buried under a blanket. While Bofur had always had the ability to notice when the hobbit was missing, he also had the odd ability to find him.

The dwarf thought that Bilbo did not want to be found now, but Bofur was his friend. He liked to think his best friend, but it was clear there was another dwarf closer to Bilbo's heart than him.

When his wife had died, Bofur had thought his heart could never break again. But this time it was not breaking over himself, but for Bilbo.

The dwarf sat, and took Bilbo's hand in his, and offered his shoulder as the small, so brave, hobbit cried and cried.

.

Bofur watched as Bilbo left their mountain after saying goodbye to what remained of the company he had started out with.

He wished Bilbo would stay for Thorin's burial, to see the king who had ruled and died in the same day put to eternal rest. Bofur thought Thorin would have wanted Bilbo to be with him till the ultimate end, but the king would probably want Bilbo to hurt less even more.

It was good, that Bilbo was leaving behind this mountain of sickness and death. For him to return to his greenery, and the rowdiness of a race that had never known war.

.

Thorin was put underground with the Arkenstone, and Bofur stood among his closest comrades and sang for his parting. He cried, but his many fresh tears got lost in his mustache. Next were Fili and Kili, and Bofur wished he had time to make them something to tuck in to their sides as they are buried away.

An elf wielding a bow and arrow for Kili, and a crown for Fili. Yet the blonde had never wanted this, any of this, and Bofur cried hard when he realized he could not think of what to make for the heir.

.

It was odd, opening the door to the place that had been his home for decades. It was covered in dust, and the only light and warmth from the place came from the torch he held.

Dain had offered the dwarves who had returned to return to their past places or residence, it they were not destroyed. There was much cleaning to do, if Bofur's rooms were anything to go by.

The dwarf went to the little wooden box, and took out the wooden dwarven figurine. It looked new, with not a spec of dust or a single color faded.

.

Bofur stayed in the mountain for three years, trying to get back to a life long passed. He visited Thorin and his sister-sons at least every month, sometimes by himself, but most times with the others.

He also visited where his wife and child were placed, to be together forever. The stone was bitter cold under his calloused fingers as he ran them over their carved names.

After three winters had passed, and Bofur still felt like a stranger in foreign lands, he packed up a bag and went for an adventure. He had a hobbit to see at four for tea.

.

Unlike Bilbo, Bofur managed to sneak out of the mountain unseen by the company. He left a note for Bombur and Bifur, saying that he was going to visit Bilbo and not to worry.

He thought himself a tad idiotic, the first time he came across a rabid pack of wargs and had to scurry a tree once again. But they were impatient unlike before, and they left after only an hour of hungrily staring up at Bofur.

Beorn welcomed Bofur, laughing and saying that it had been too long since he had seen a familiar face. Last time it had been Gandalf and Bilbo. He explained that the little bunny had only stayed a few days to say hello and collect flower seeds before he was off.

.

After many months of bruises and blisters, Bofur saw the familiar sight of the Shire. What was unfamiliar was the boy that answered the door, who had clear blue eyes and dark curls. Bofur nearly stumbled back in shock, wondering if Bilbo had forgotten to tell him something about male hobbit biology. The child seemed a nearly perfect mixture of his late king and the burglar.

"Who is it, Frodo dear?"

"He has a funny hat," the child said warily, and Bofur wondered what had happened to the lad to make him so hesitant.

" _Bofur_?"

Bilbo came around the corner a moment after his exclamation, eyes nearly as wide as his smile.

.

"I'm sorry to interrupt anything," Bofur said as he put down his tea cup and chanced a glance at Frodo.

The boy was meticulously spreading jam over the butter on his muffin. His little eyebrows were furrowed, and hands steady in his deep concentration. 

Bilbo gave the dwarf a kind smile, and turned to Frodo and whispered something in his ear that had the boy dropping his pastry.

"You were there for the dragon and all that? _Truly_?!" Frodo asked in bright awe.

Bofur laughed for the first time in a long time. It was the kind of laugh that started in his stomach and spread to the tips of his fingertips and the ends of his braids.

.

Bofur sat next to Bilbo on his bench outside his home. While before they had freely smoked indoors, Bilbo had explained how Frodo did not like the smell very much.

"So where's the lass?" Bofur asked as he began puffing.

"Oh, I'm unmarried," Bilbo commented offhandedly.

Bofur's brow furrowed, and he turned to Bilbo with a frown. 

"Oh, heavens, I haven't even explained, have I? I've just been so flustered, to find one of you actually accepted my invitation and all! I've adopted Frodo, after his parents passed in an unfortunate boating accident."

.

Bofur found himself exhaling in relief, as he did not know if it would be welcome or wise to stay with Bilbo if he had a new family and did not want his past mucking about. But the way Bilbo reached and laid his hand on Bofur's forearm was anything but welcoming.

"It was an odd blessing, me coming about that boy," Bilbo sighed. "I was so very lonely. But then I had the sound of little feet."

"And now you'll have the sound of loud dwarven feet," Bofur said with a chuckle.

Bilbo's grip on his forearm tightened and his eyes were bright in the moonlight.

.

Everything in Bilbo's garden ran green and wild. It was a little shocking, to see such a neat little creature allow his prized garden to grow so fiercely. Apparently it made things grow stronger with the competition, and Bofur could admit there was beauty in the way the plants wound about each other.

Yet there was one sapling away from the rest, which had a little fence around it. Bofur did not know what type of tree it was, and one day he found himself pulling on one its thin branches to get a closer look at the curvy leaves.

"Bofur, don't hurt it!" Bilbo cried as he ran up and pulled the dwarf away.

Bofur looked at him and the tree, and suddenly realized that it was an oak.

.

"I told... I told T-Thorin I would plant it, and I have. It's the one promise I know I can keep with him," Bilbo said later that evening, as they once again sat on his bench.

Bofur hummed, and decided to let Bilbo continue talking.

"I'm sorry if I scared you away, yelling like that," Bilbo said with a self-deprecating chuckle. "I'm just defensive about it, is all. I snapped at Frodo about it one day, and the poor boy looked like I'd slapped his rear."

The dwarf watched the smoke from his last puff dissipate in the dying light of another day. Silence was not a bad thing at times, and Bofur let it sit between the two for a moment before speaking his mind.

.

"Don't you think it sad, how you keep everything from it away?" Bofur asked hesitantly. "You're making it just like Thorin."

"I'm protecting it," Bilbo said fiercely.

"Bilbo," Bofur said gently. "You can't decide these things. Either that tree will live, or it will die. You've helped all you can, and it's up to the tree itself now."

Bilbo looked up with him with tears in his eyes before leaping up and going inside. That night Bofur stayed out way too late, and got a little sick from smoking too much. He had a bitter taste in his mouth, and it would not go away.

.

Dwarves only had one true love in their lifetimes, yet it did not mean they could never love again. Bofur had fiercely loved his wife, but that did not stop him from loving his family, his company, and this odd little creature without hair on his face.

Bofur was afraid Bilbo was mad at him, but he only seemed tired the next morning. After Frodo went about to explore, Bofur sat down beside Bilbo and put a hand over the hobbit's.

"I'm sorry, about last night," Bofur said gruffly.

"No, you were right," Bilbo said with a shake of his curls. "It's just hard for me to let go. Let _him_ go. Even after all this time."

Bofur hummed, and when he recommended they take the fence down to plant some poppies around the tree, Biblo agreed with a watery smile.

.

Bofur wanted to tell Bilbo that the pain would never leave him. That he would carry around this invisible weight that was was heavier than the world. It might fade a bit in time, but it was a scar that was too deep for most others to see and understand.

But he did not tell his good friend that, because Bilbo was a kind, hopeful creature. He had not had to weather a home lost, and Bofur did not want the dead to haunt him more than it already did.

So the dwarf decided he would stay here with Bilbo, and give him comfort just like his family did for him. Because the company was Bilbo's family now, and Bofur had come all this way.

.

One day at the market, Bofur could not ignore the stares the children gave him. Finally breaking away from Bilbo with a rushed explanation, he went up to a light haired boy who seemed more brash (or foolish) than the others.

"What is it, little one?" Bofur asked pleasantly.

The child stared and then stated: "Frodo says you make the best toys. And we all want some."

Bofur jumped at Bilbo's laughter behind him, and turned to see the hobbit had followed and was truly smiling.

.

"Ah, I should have known it would be Pippin to break the spell," Bilbo chirped as they walked back up with baskets full of food and supplies for more toys.

"Spell?" Bofur had to ask.

"They want to meet and climb all over you of course," Bilbo said with another bright laugh from before. "Bofur, I don't know what it is, but the children adore you."

Bofur smiled at that, and did not have the heart to make a joke and light of the situation. Because he wanted to remember Bilbo smiling like he was entertained by something other than just a line.

.

Now wherever the dwarf went, whether it to gather wood in the forests of supplies in town, little fauntlings would trail after him like ducklings.

Some of the daring ones, Pippin among them, would demand a ride on his shoulders. Bofur could not offer them much height past hobbits, but they enjoyed pulling on his hat and braids like reigns. They also marveled at his mustache, which Bofur was very proud of himself.

In a way, Bofur supposed he had never been happier. All these children were not explicitly his, but they made him feel like he belonged. And unlike with dwarf children, hobbit parents were more than willing to hand over their children for hours at a time.

They were seen as nuisances at times, but Bofur thought each curly-haired child was utterly perfect. A treasure for him to watch and coo over.

.

Bilbo never brought up the possibility, or the question, of when Bofur would return. Bilbo accepted Bofur taking a room for himself as easily as he had to bring him in for tea all those days ago.

Bofur put the wooden dwarf he made for his passed daughter on the mantle by the fire one night. Bilbo did not comment, even as curiosity flashed plainly in his eyes. He also did not point it out for Frodo who already has a chest full of trinkets by Bofur.

Unlike when it sat alone in a box, tucked away, it slowly gathered dust and the paint began to dull a bit from the late afternoon sun as the years passed.

No longer did the smiling figurine haunt Bofur as it watched over their little household, and no longer did the dwarf feel amiss.

.

FIN

 


End file.
